


you will drop on all fours / get down, show me what you're good for

by valvet



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Begging, Desperation, Dirty Talk, Jopson and his devotion for Francis, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise Kink, Resolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:55:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29893179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valvet/pseuds/valvet
Summary: It had been weeks since he had felt touch -- a hand here and there of course, even a kiss but -- it wasn’t enough. Francis had bed him once, the memories of it lingered in his head anytime he was alone.
Relationships: Francis Crozier/Thomas Jopson
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	you will drop on all fours / get down, show me what you're good for

Thomas wouldn't consider himself a desperate man, far from that, every act he took was done with patience, a good amount of waiting in between until reward, even if it was just a soft “thank you” from his captain’s berth, he’d take it and think about it until the next praise came. Through thick and thin, he would do his tasks to the smallest point, and miss nothing in the process, even if it meant an extra hour of waiting or preparation. Of course, every man has a breaking point, and even Thomas, whose job was intricately intertwined with patience, could.

  
The only man who ever could bring him to that would always be Francis (the only man he’d _let_ do that), no man brought him to a flushed face as easily as he ever could, how he ached for his touch so deeply in the times they were a part, it burned him from the inside to even think about him (him kissing Thomas, touching him and -- )

  
It had been _weeks_ since he had felt touch -- a hand here and there of course, even a kiss but -- it wasn’t enough. Francis had bed him once, the memories of it lingered in his head anytime he was alone.

  
_“You can be a good boy, can’t you Tom?”_ Francis’s hands had been on his face, his cock inside of him, and lips pressed to his cheek. At that point, Thomas could only whimper and nod (he knew he was good, confirmation was all he wanted). His cock filled him so well, made him feel so _much,_ everything at once came together anytime Francis touched him -- fucked him in that way.

  
His knees almost buckled just thinking about it, hands pressing themselves up to the wall. Weeks without anything to fill him, the closest thing he ever did manage was his own fingers -- but it wasn’t Francis, nothing could compare to his voice, the kindness and care he gave him, the way he could touch the back of his head and he’d fall to his knees to serve him. Thomas could feel his hands shaking, and the increasing tension in his pants, his cock straining against them (all the things he wanted Francis to say to him, to be before him, dripping and grinding himself for his touch.)

  
_“Not yet,”_ Thomas couldn’t help but imagine him, _“I’ll let you spend soon, but not now, my sweet boy,”_

  
_Christ alive_ , his hips thrusted at that, he needed him beyond anything imaginable, his captain -- his lover.

  
But still, he wouldn’t defile himself now, patience is what he needed. With the lingering feeling of tension still in him, he tried to fold his captain’s clothes, hands trembling and fumbling about the buttons and edges (would he let Thomas undress him? Get to see everything he had, to feel it all?)

  
It took him around an hour to finish them, many of the minutes spent were off in his own head, rubbing his finger over the same seam over and over again, until his fingers felt sore from it.

  
Thomas tried so hard to keep himself still, to seem at least well in any regard, but the slip-ups were obvious to him, a hitched breath here and there from anybody who even came close to him, the half-hard cock in his pants, the _thoughts_ .   
By the time evening came, his head had completely fried itself, the only thing he cared for was Francis, he wanted his touch so badly. Thomas was impressed that when he saw him, he didn’t fall to his knees immediately (albeit he would if asked, anything for _his_ Francis.)

  
Francis’s hand pressed itself to his, a smile on his face.

  
“Thomas,” his voice hit him so deeply, the entirety of his throat closing up at it.

  
“Sir,” it was all so much, and he loved it.

  
Francis’s eyes were so bright, anytime Thomas was in sight of him, they always gleamed (only for him.) He patted him.

  
“You seem flushed, dear,” His fingers rubbed against his knuckles, Thomas’s head went light at that, “Is something a miss?”

At that, he began to cry, falling to his knees and burying himself as fast as he could into Francis.

  
“It’s been -- _please_ ,” A mess he was, grinding his crotch right against his boot, whining and sobbing into his pants. Francis’s let out a gasp from above, hands quickly scooping up his tear-stained face.

  
“Thomas I -- “ he kissed him (he never had, it always had been Francis to be the desperate one, never him), pulling him down with him, every inch of his skin was needed to make him feel safe.

  
“Touch me please -- missed you so much, Francis _please_ ,” His Christian name bled from his mouth so easily. Francis’s eyes flickered for a moment, before pulling Thomas up onto his lap.

  
“Easy there -- it’s alright now,” His chest felt so nice, the warmth from his heart going right into his face. “Have you been like this all day?” Francis asked, face moving into his neck.

“Mhm, tried to keep it under control -- I’m sorry sir,” A kiss met his neck, and he let out a whine.

  
“No need, you did good, Tom,” His face went flushed at that, Francis chuckled, before kissing him again. “Is that what you need right now? To be good? Tell me what you need,”

  
_So many things_ , he wanted to say, at this point he’d let Francis do anything to him, as long as he didn’t leave -- didn’t stop.

  
“Want you, sir -- your hands, your _cock_ I -- Christ I want to be good sir, tell me when I’m good, don’t let me spend until I’m good please,” Thomas had never begged, even through it all, but that’s all he could do now, grovel and ask so softly to be loved, to get fucked.

  
“Oh Thomas, my dear Tom,” He could hear Francis’s smile, “Should have told me sooner, would have taken you in an instant -- such a good boy for me, aren’t you Tom?” Oh he was, he really was. Francis put a hand to Thomas’s crotch, softly rubbing it through his pants.

  
“Tell me, do you want my hand or my cock, hm?”

  
“Cock -- please sir your cock,” Francis chuckled, putting Thomas’s hands on his pants.

  
“Greedy boy, take it out for me, would you? Reward you for being good with my cock,” Thomas, even in a state such as his, went straight for it, pulling out Francis’s cock in a frenzy. He could hear him laugh.

  
“That’s a good boy, let me see you, Tom, want to see how desperate you are,” Who was he to refuse? He managed his pants off, throwing them to the side and desperately whimpering. Francis’s hand made its way to his cock, rubbing it gently with his thumb.

  
“Dripping all over for me, have you been like this since last time I bedded you? Can imagine you pulling your prick thinking of me, did you stop when you were going to spend? Made sure that only I could let you?” _Oh_ , Thomas moaned at that, at that, Francis’s hand left him, and instead, he felt them go under his thighs, lifting him up as Francis’s cock poked against his ass (everyday he’d try and stretch it, try to replicate his lovers cock, but to no avail.)

  
“Missed you everyday, Tom,” Slowly, he could feel Francis fill him up, how _good_ it felt to finally be whole again, tears welling up in his eyes, “Took me so much strength to not bugger you again, wanted you to tell me that you needed it,”

  
“I do -- Francis I really do,” Thomas put his face into his shoulder, half sobbing out his confirmation of love and adoration, his cock strained and wet as he could feel him, the soft thrusts inside of him as Francis groaned; holding him so tightly, Thomas would never let him go.

  
“Let you spend after I do, rip the orgasm out of you,” Francis’s movements were desperate, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside Thomas every time he moved. The entirety of his mind had gone straight through his prick and onto Francis’s lap, his precum dribbling all over him as Thomas grinded against his movements.

  
“ _Please_ ,” He didn’t even know what he was pleading for anymore, he just needed anything to hold onto.

  
“I know, you can do it, Tom, just a little bit more for me,” Everything was so tense, his eyes half open as he could feel Francis building and building and -- 

And.

And.

  
Even from just the beginning of the cum that began to fill him, he felt bloated, pressing himself down onto Francis’s cock, sobbing out his shrill pleads for more, hands shaking as he tried to keep himself upright, albeit he quickly gave out from it, putting his face back into Francis’s chest.

  
He had held on for so _long_.

  
“Thomas,” He sounded half-winded, but still ever so pleased, “did such a good job, you’re a good boy, taking my cock so well, took every inch I gave, do you want to cum now?”

  
“Oh please yes…”

  
His hands were made for him, how well they fit around each inch of skin, how his fingers always caressed him in a perfect way, the wet noise it made while Francis jerked him off was divine.

  
“Cum for me, Tom,”

  
Everything caught a flame from that demand, he cried out Francis’s name while doing it, his entire body shaking as he came undone at last, weeks worth of pent up desire coming out through his mouth and cock.

  
When he finished, he couldn’t even move (not that he ever would have wanted to), the only thing he could manage was putting himself further on top of Francis, who’s hands had gone into his hair now, that fine mouth of his on his forehead.

  
“You did so good, Tom, so proud of you,” Francis softly praised him, in between each kiss he got another.

  
Neither of them managed to get up until dawn, not that Thomas ever would mind, he’d do anything to spend an eternity in his Captain’s arms, to be held like a prized pet until he couldn’t remember what he had even come here for.

**Author's Note:**

> please sir this is my emotional support ship in which i project all my sexual urges onto jopson because im insane. anyways enjoy


End file.
